I am not living on benefits and drug-addicted. But I am still him, even if his life has changed, the essential self refracts now through a new prism, the new external coordinates, personal and social, remind me. I am famous, he was not. The Shard hadn’t been built then, yet now it tears the sky in jagged certainty, unfinished. I was in there once and it was like a Ridley Scott film: bleak membrane drum-skin tight above the anxious city. I am soon to be a father and I don’t take drugs and I am not penniless, I am penniful, if anything.
